Outsider
by Morkgirl
Summary: During a vacation with Mindy, Mork learns what it means to be an alien on Earth.
1. Chapter 1

Outsider

Part One

"Mork, where have you been?" Mindy asked. "I thought you were right behind Dad and me at the musical instrument convention. When I turned around, you weren't there." She looked around the crowded convention center. "Did you get lost or something?"

"Oh Mindy, it's incredible!" Mork said. "I don't need to hide that I'm an alien anymore."

"Shh!" Mindy said, looking around to make sure no one heard him. The noisy din of the crowd nearly drowned out their words, so she relaxed slightly, confident that no one was listening. "Of course you do. What are you talking about?"

Mork's innocent blue eyes widened with excitement. "I just met a whole group of aliens, right here in this convention hall!" He said. "I'd never seen anything like it. I didn't recognize any of them from my travels, but that didn't matter. Maybe they're from planets I haven't been to yet. They were all very nice and accepting of me. We talked about interplanetary travel, other aliens—Mind, for the first time since I've been here on Earth, I really feel like I fit in. Why didn't you tell me that other aliens visited here? I don't see the need to keep my origin a secret if the others are so open about it. And the regular earthlings—they just walk by as if there isn't anything unusual about it! Your people are far more advanced than I gave you credit for to openly welcome all races of aliens from around the universe."

Mindy looked around. Half of the hall had been reserved for the music convention, but the larger portion of it was devoted to groups of people dressed in all manner of outlandish costumes, from superheroes to monsters. She sighed. She didn't want to upset him, but she had to tell him the truth.

"Those aren't _real_ aliens, Mork," she said. "That's a sci-fi convention. They're just humans dressed as aliens. Those are costumes. Some of them are very elaborate I'll admit, but they're still costumes."

Mork looked around, disappointed. "You mean, they're dressed up like those children were that came to our door asking for candy during that Earth holiday?" He asked.

"Halloween," Mindy said. "Yes, it's kind of like that, I suppose."

Mork frowned. "I don't see anybody giving them candy," he said, confused. "I thought you told me that only kids dressed up. These all look like adult humans."

"This is a different occasion," Mindy said. "You see, these people are all fans of science fiction movies and TV shows. They come dressed as their favorite character from those films to show their appreciation, and to have a little fun discussing it with other fans. It's a chance to be social with people who share common interests."

"I see," Mork said, deflated. "I should have known something was wrong. Half of those people didn't know what they were talking about. If only they knew the reality of what's out there. Most of those movies are inaccurate. I used to laugh at them on Ork."

A man dressed as a giant, hairy monster took off his headpiece to drink from a nearby water fountain, revealing that even though he was dressed to look like a monster, he was really only an ordinary human, who probably had a rather ordinary profession in his daily life, like accounting, using the escapism of the convention as a chance to become something more extraordinary. It felt to Mork like the final betrayal. He had hoped he had finally found people he could relate to and understand. Instead, it turned out to be a cruel charade. He felt even more isolated and alone than before, even with Mindy at his side.

"I'm sorry, Mork," she said, squeezing his hand to comfort him, noticing how dejected he looked. "I didn't mean to disappoint you, but you had to know the truth."

"I understand," he said, looking sadly at the floor. He almost looked like he was about to cry.

"People love aliens in their movies," Mindy said, rubbing his shoulder. "I'm just not sure they're ready to love them in real life. You have to be patient with us. Some of us just aren't ready for the reality. It would scare them."

Mork nodded. He looked up at her. " _You_ were ready," he said, smiling.

"I guess I was."

"I'm glad you were."

They kissed.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Mindy said, releasing him. "I have some vacation time coming up, and I want you to come with me. That should cheer you up."

"Where are we going?" Mork asked.

Mindy giggled. "If you thought the sci-fi convention was amusing, you'll definitely get a kick out of this," she said, pulling out a folded, crumpled brochure from her purse and handing it to him. "I wanted to surprise you. Go ahead, read what it says."

"Roswell, New Mexico?" Mork asked.

"Yes."

Mork frowned. "I don't understand," he said. "Why Roswell?"

"Mork, you're an alien," she said, looking around to make sure no one heard them. She supposed if some of the sci-fi conventioneers overheard, it wouldn't make a difference. They were probably in the safest public place they could be to discuss the upcoming trip, surrounded by the world of fantasy and role-play.

"Well I am an alien Mind, but I don't see what that has to do with Roswell, New Mexico," he said, handing her back the brochure, shrugging. "Is it nice there?"

"I can't believe this," Mindy said, stuffing the brochure back in her purse. "Nobody on Ork has ever heard of the Roswell incident?"

"No, what was it?"

Mindy shook her head in disbelief. "Wow," she said. "I thought it was common knowledge across the universe."

"Orkans are a little slow, Mind," Mork said. "They might be highly advanced, but they don't necessarily keep up with current events."

"This wasn't a current event. It happened in 1947."

"Oh, well then Orkans are _really_ slow."

"You see, what happened was a spacecraft containing extraterrestrials allegedly crashed in Roswell, and there was a massive government cover-up. Those were aliens all over the brochure, Mork. Didn't you recognize them?"

"I thought those were Earth cartoon characters," Mork said. "Mind, no other aliens I know look like that. It must have been some kind of mistake, some kind of hoax."

"That's what most people now think," Mindy said, "but some conspiracy theorists still insist that aliens landed, and our government went to great lengths to cover it up because they felt the American public wasn't ready to accept such a thing." She gestured toward the human aliens and monsters congregating in the convention hall. "I'll bet you if you asked any of them, they would know what the Roswell incident is. It's a part of our folklore now, I guess."

"Strange," Mork said. "Although, it may not be so far from the truth."

"It's not," Mindy said, grinning. "After all, I am standing in front of an actual alien right now, aren't I? There isn't any science fiction about that."

"No, there sure isn't," Mork said. He looked around, lowering his voice. "Of course, you and I both know now that your government would capture aliens like me to study me, and that they would try to conceal it from the public."

He looked at her seriously, recalling the time he had been taken to Dr. Feldman's top secret government laboratory beneath the Flatirons, where he had almost died. Mindy's smile waned as she remembered it, too. They had avoided talking about it for so long, trying to get past the event but also trying to avoid the detection of the mysterious men in black.

"Don't worry, Mork," she said. "Nothing like that is going to happen to you again, I promise. I will protect you. I just thought that if you found humor in our science fiction movies, you might find Roswell hilarious, too. What do you say? Would you like to go?"

"Sure Mind," he said, beaming. "I could always use a good laugh, especially if I get to laugh with you."

"Great! We'll start packing once we get home. It'll be fun, you'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

Outsider

Part Two

Overall, Mork enjoyed Roswell, with its kitschy and quirky atmosphere. The little alien creatures who supposedly landed in the tiny desert town many years ago were present everywhere—in gift shops and on signs, their tiny, childlike bodies with disproportionately large and bulbous heads engaged in various activities, from eating ice cream and riding bicycles to lounging at the motel pool. UFO enthusiasts and theorists gathered from all over the world, taking pictures of the crash site and arguing with each other over what really happened. Mork found it mostly harmless and amusing, observing what strange fictions the humans chose to believe about life beyond their planet. Still, a part of the experience disturbed him. He didn't want to tell Mindy because she had put so much effort into arranging the trip, but when he saw how the fictional aliens were treated—either as a commodity to be marketed or as a science experiment to be dissected—he thought back to his confinement in Dr. Feldman's laboratory and shuddered, knowing something very similar could have happened to him.

Unable to sleep, Mork went for a walk alone in the empty desert to clear his mind, kissing Mindy gently on the cheek before he left their hotel room, trying not to wake her. He liked the desert at night, its vast emptiness soothing to him, a relief from the constant and exhausting crush of tourists he encountered during the day. As he walked, he breathed in the fresh, cool, and dry air, the intermittent baying of coyotes the only sound to break the peaceful stillness. Ahead of him on the side of the road, he saw a shadowy figure hunched over the open hood of a disabled Jeep, the beam from a flashlight dancing around like a lively little sprite as the person moved it, trying to figure out what caused the malfunction.

"May I be of some assistance?" Mork asked as he approached.

A young Native American man lifted his head from beneath the hood to see who was speaking to him. He looked at Mork uncertainly.

"Where did you come from?" He asked.

"I was out taking a walk when I noticed your predicament."

The young man looked around. "Man, you shouldn't walk around alone here at night," he said. "It could be dangerous."

Mork smiled. "I can take care of myself," he said.

The young man nodded. "Yeah, I'll bet," he said. He looked down helplessly at the Jeep's engine. "All right, fine. If you want to try to fix it, I'll let you. You aren't some kind of psycho, are you?"

Mork cocked his head. "Psycho?" He asked, unsure of the terminology.

"You aren't a serial killer or anything like that, are you?"

"No, I won't hurt you."

The young man looked at him suspiciously, still doubtful he could trust him. He paused a minute and looked around before finally surrendering with a shrug.

"Okay," he said, sighing. "Be my guest."

He relinquished control of his position in front of the Jeep, allowing Mork to replace him.

"I don't know what you think you'll be able to do," the young man said. "I've tried everything, and nothing works. She's an old, beat-up piece of junk that's always clunking out on me."

Mork studied every system and component of the vehicle, his advanced brain rapidly processing everything it needed to function, trying to determine what was wrong.

"Don't worry, I can repair it," he said. "The same thing is always happening to Mindy's Jeep."

"Who's Mindy?"

Mork grinned. "She's my girlfriend," he said.

"Oh," the young man said, beginning to feel a little more relaxed around this stranger. If he had a girlfriend, he had to be at least slightly normal, he hoped.

"There is one favor I need to ask of you," Mork said, looking up at the young man.

"What?"

"Turn away."

"What? Why?"

"I can't explain. Just…please, turn away."

"I was afraid of something like this," the young man muttered beneath his breath.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. It's just…what I'm about to do—I can't have you look."

"What are you, _shy_?" The young man asked.

"That's right," Mork said. "I don't like people watching me work."

"Whatever, man," the young man said, rolling his eyes and deciding to play along, turning his back to Mork.

"Thank you."

"Look, whatever you're going to do, just please, do it quick. I've got somewhere to be."

"Righto," Mork said.

Sparks flew from Mork's finger as he pointed it at the Jeep's engine, causing it to roar to life and the headlights to illuminate.

"There you go," he said, smiling and rubbing his hands together, satisfied with his work. "You can turn around now. I'm done."

The young man looked at the running Jeep in astonishment. "How…how did you do that?" He asked.

"I gave it a jumpstart."

"Yeah, but how? You don't have any tools with you."

"Uh…" Mork said, unsure how to explain.

"Look, it doesn't matter," the young man said, noticing how uncomfortable Mork looked. "Thank you."

He climbed into the driver seat and buckled his seatbelt. He prepared to drive away when he stopped, looking at Mork and thinking about the miraculous way his Jeep's engine was revived. When his back was turned, he thought he saw a flash of light, but he wasn't sure.

"I know what you are," he said.

"Well I…" Mork said, wondering if he should run.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," the young man said. "You're one of the Star People, aren't you?"

"Star People?"

"It's a story passed down from my ancestors. According to them, long ago people from a different world visited my tribe. They came in ships and taught us new technologies. They were so advanced that my people thought they were descended from the ancient gods."

Mork thought about what the young man was saying. He remembered learning something about Orkans visiting Earth and assisting fledgling ancient societies in school, helping them begin and advance their civilizations so that they could thrive.

"When I saw what you did for my Jeep, I knew you had to possess some abilities from beyond this world. There is no other way you could have fixed it without tools of some kind."

Mork didn't know what to say, afraid that despite this man's assurances, he would still report him.

"My people revere you," the young man said. "You don't have to be afraid. Your secret is safe with me, I promise." He looked out onto the horizon. Dawn was beginning to break, a thin pink line forming beneath the clouds as the sun rose. "All that nonsense about Roswell is a gimmick to bring more tourists to the area. You're the _real_ alien, which makes you far more interesting. Take care, my man. Thanks again." The young man smiled and saluted him, driving away.

Mork stood there as the Jeep vanished, stunned. He wasn't expecting such a reaction, but it gave him hope that maybe when it was time to reveal his true identity to Earth, there would be more people willing to accept him than he previously thought. He had forgotten about all the ancient cultures on Earth who welcomed them and the science fiction aficionados who, despite their inaccurate versions of aliens, were nevertheless willing to believe in the possibility of life on other planets. He had forgotten about the conspiracy theorists surrounding him at Roswell and the scientists searching for the truth, including Dr. Feldman. It was a large, complex world with many diverse people, and he knew it would be far more complicated than he thought to get all humans to accept him, but it comforted him to know there were at least a few more of them who would.

Once the young man's Jeep was gone, a different one approached Mork, followed by several others, forming a convoy that converged on the spot where he stood. He could tell they belonged to the military by their camouflage paint, and instantly he was filled with dread. He knew they were coming for him. They wanted him to study him, to lock him away at some top secret base again. He didn't think the young man had led them to him. He knew even though Dr. Feldman agreed to release him that, as an alien on Earth, there would always be someone else, someone more relentless in their pursuit of him. They were always tracking him, looking for another opportunity to capture him. Exposed and alone in the open desert, he had unwittingly made himself a target.

"Oh no," he said, frantically looking for an escape route.

The armored Jeeps surrounded him, and soldiers clad in full battle gear jumped out, pointing their guns at him.

"Careful, men. He's dangerous," he heard someone say.

Mork held up his hands to show them he wasn't a threat, still searching for a way out, his brain calculating the probabilities of success for numerous scenarios. In his panic, it was difficult for him to think clearly. He felt paralyzed and helpless against their onslaught.

"Please," he said. "I don't want to hurt you."

One of the soldiers cocked his weapon. Thinking he was about to shoot, Mork in his desperation overreacted to defend himself, using his powers to knock it out of the soldier's hand. In response to this, the other soldiers prepared to fire at him.

"Don't shoot! We need him alive!" Their commanding officer shouted.

"Please," Mork said. "Just leave me alone…"

Another soldier aimed his weapon at Mork, causing him to use his powers and knock it out of that man's hand as well. As he did this, a nervous soldier, perhaps anticipating a more aggressive attack, fired at Mork, the bullet striking him in the leg and causing him to collapse to the ground in agony, bleeding profusely.

"Damn it, I said don't shoot!" The commanding officer shouted. "Hold your fire! Get the medic!"

Crumpled on the ground, holding his bleeding wound and wincing in pain, Mork groaned, struggling to move, desperate to find any way he could to flee these men, even if it meant crawling to his freedom under intense and excruciating pain. He didn't get far. A group of armed men swarmed around him, blocking his path. He panted, wincing as he looked up at them.

"Please," he whimpered, feeling too weakened to say anything else, feeling himself fading.

A medical team lifted him onto a gurney, and he struggled against them, lashing out at them with all the available strength he had left, which, even when diminished, was still stronger than the several men who held him down. Eventually, they managed to subdue him, securing him to the gurney with thick restraints. They injected him with a sedative, and soon he was fighting for consciousness, the world spinning around him in dizzying loops. As his vision began to blur, he saw a man standing over him that he thought he recognized. In his medicated haze, he couldn't remember where he had seen him before. It wasn't Dr. Feldman, but perhaps someone who had worked with him. The man seemed to know who he was, too. The last thing Mork saw before his eyes closed was the man grinning at him in satisfaction, his prized possession returned to him.

"It's nice to have you back, Mork," he said.

His voice echoed, lingering in Mork's mind until everything went black, sending him into oblivion.


	3. Chapter 3

Outsider

Part Three

The blaring ring of the hotel room's telephone startled Mindy, jolting her awake. Stirring and moaning in protest over such a rude interruption, she yawned and stretched, her hand feeling in the bed for where Mork should have been. He was gone. Wondering if the phone call was from him and it was urgent, she quickly answered it.

"Hello?" She said groggily.

"Ms. McConnell," a man said on the other end of the line.

"Who is this?"

"Dr. Feldman."

"Oh, of course. I thought I recognized your voice. What's the matter?"

She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm afraid I have some unfortunate news to share with you about Mork," he said.

Mindy glanced at the empty space beside her on the bed. She straightened and held her breath, preparing to hear the worst.

"What is it? What's happened to him?" She asked.

"One of my former colleagues has captured him. They're holding him for study at Area 51."

"How could you let this happen to him?" Mindy asked angrily, getting out of bed and pacing restlessly. "You _promised_ me that you would leave him alone. What is the matter with you? Do you want him to get sick and almost die again?"

"Please, Ms. McConnell…this has nothing to do with me. It wasn't my decision. Dr. Phillips has gone rogue. He is acting on his own, and I'm afraid he's a dangerous man. He will not be as merciful to Mork as I was. I have to find a way to rescue him and return him to you before he's destroyed."

"I want to help you."

"I'm afraid I can't advise that. Since you're a civilian, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for me to smuggle you onto the base. You should never have even been able to see our operation in Boulder. I, on the other hand, am authorized personnel. I can easily gain access. You do understand, don't you? It would be much safer for you and Mork if I did this on my own."

"At least let me go with you."

"Ms. McConnell—

"I am _not_ going to sit idly by while Mork's life is at stake," Mindy said, her pacing increasing in tempo, like an aggressive, caged tiger.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "All right," Dr. Feldman said. "You can come with me. But once we arrive at the base, you are to wait outside the secure perimeter and allow me to enter alone. I don't want to arouse suspicion. We have to proceed with caution, or this mission will fail. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Mindy said. "The last thing I would do is take any unnecessary risks and place Mork's life in jeopardy. I just want to be there for him, so he knows he's not alone."

"I understand," Dr. Feldman said. "Wait for me outside your hotel room. I will pick you up in an unmarked van."

"Okay," Mindy said. "Dr. Feldman, how did you know Mork and I were here?"

"We always know where Mork is," he said cryptically. "Unfortunately, so does Dr. Phillips."

Mindy shuddered at the idea that she and Mork were constantly being tracked by the government. It felt like a violation, an invasion of their privacy.

"Well then, let's get him back," she said.

Mork awoke to find himself secured to a hospital bed by heavy steel bands, his wounded leg swathed in bandages. Electrodes were attached to his forehead, and various machines provided readouts of his body's activity. The soothing numbness of his medication was beginning to fade, the dull, throbbing pain in his leg returning. Groaning, he closed his eyes and swallowed, the medication making his tongue feel thick. When he reopened his eyes, he saw the man who captured him standing over him, smiling.

"How are you feeling, Mork?" He asked.

Even though his mind still felt hazy, Mork studied the man carefully. There was nothing sinister about his appearance. In fact, he was rather average looking, someone who could easily blend into a crowd and be ignored or overlooked, his features unremarkable. Yet despite his bland ordinariness, Mork remembered him.

"I…know you…" he said, struggling to speak, his throat dry, his body weakened with pain and blood loss.

"Dr. Phillips," the man said. "I used to work with Dr. Feldman."

"I remember seeing you."

Dr. Phillips bowed his head, acknowledging Mork's recognition of him. "Well then, there you go," he said. "You could say we are old acquaintances, of sorts." He looked at Mork's bandaged leg. "It is a pity my men had to shoot you. I do apologize. They were supposed to bring you in unharmed. Well, not to worry. You are being tended to by our medical staff. Your wound is not life-threatening and should heal just fine."

Mork looked around the sterile surroundings of the room. "What am I doing here?" He asked. "Dr. Feldman told me I was free to go, that he would leave me alone."

"Yes, well Dr. Feldman had a serious lapse in judgment," Dr. Phillips said. "Let's just say that he and I had a professional disagreement over what should be done with you. He thought it was fine to release you and sacrifice years of valuable scientific research, while I saw you for what you are—a threat to the national security of this country."

"No," Mork said, shaking his head, his eyes widening. "I would never hurt anyone."

"I saw you knock the weapons out of those soldier's hands using your powers. Imagine the damage you could cause if you suddenly lost control, if you became violent. I'm afraid we cannot afford to allow you to wander freely among the general population when you possess such power. You're putting people at great risk with something they can't even begin to understand yet. They just aren't ready for it. You are a security risk, and we have to keep you contained here at the base."

"But I wouldn't become violent. Violence is against my nature. I was defending myself against being attacked."

Dr. Phillips shook his head. "Oh Mork," he said. "I wish I could believe you. I wish it were only that simple." He examined him, touching different parts of his body. "You are a fascinating species," he said. "You resemble us so remarkably. You're like the next step in human evolution." He began to unwind the bandage around Mork's leg. "I wonder…do you feel pain?"

He pressed his finger into the wound. Mork grunted, biting his lip and clenching his fists to prevent himself from crying out, not wanting to give this sadistic man the pleasure. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and tears formed in his eyes, one of them rolling down his cheek. Dr. Phillips smiled, wiping the tear away with his finger and examining it.

"Affirmative, you do," he said. "However, you appear to have a high tolerance for it. You're so strong, and yet…so vulnerable. I wonder...do you even realize what you are capable of?"

"I don't care what you do to me," Mork said. "I won't cooperate. You can't keep me here."

"I can. You see, those bands that secure you to this bed are high tensile steel. They can withstand the weight of twenty big rig trucks. Your powers would be ineffective against them. Even if you did somehow manage to free yourself, my men have been ordered to shoot you if you try to escape. And this time, I guarantee you they won't aim for your leg. They will shoot to kill."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Mork asked. "What do you want?"

"I told you, Mork. You're a risk to this nation."

"But there has to be more to it than that."

Dr. Phillips looked at him. "You're right, there is," he said. He walked around the room, checking the equipment attached to Mork's body. "You're very astute, Mork. You see, there is a lot you don't know about what happened during your previous time in captivity with Dr. Feldman. While he was whining and wringing his hands over how to save your life, I was doing the job he should have been performing. I was studying you, carefully. I learned a lot about your species, about how you function. Still, there is one aspect of you that I do not fully understand yet."

"What is that?" Mork asked.

"Your powers. I want to know how they work."

Angered over his confinement, feeling cornered and helpless like hunted prey, Mork glared intensely at the pen hooked inside the pocket of Dr. Phillips's lab coat. At his will, the pen exploded, blue ink leaking all over the doctor.

"They work like that," Mork said, grinning sarcastically, relishing his minor victory over his captor.

Enraged, Dr. Phillips slapped him. Mork recoiled, but he remained defiant, refusing to cry out in pain from the sting of the blow, his glare remaining fixed. Trembling, the doctor removed his coat and shook it, trying to remove the ink stain as best as he could before giving up, tossing the coat aside.

"Amusing," he said. "However, I am being serious. I need to know how you are able to do things like that, and you're going to tell me."

"Why?" Mork asked. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"If I knew how to harness your powers…well, they would provide a valuable asset to the defense of this nation."

"You want to build a weapon," Mork said.

"Yes, and your powers will be the ammunition."

"But you said I was a threat to the security of this nation," Mork said. "How is using my powers as a weapon going to keep you safe?"

"They will be used in the _defense_ of this nation," Dr. Phillips said. "Imagine what we could do if we could only concentrate your abilities and channel them. We would have a weapon twice as powerful as the nuclear bomb. No enemy nation could withstand that kind of force."

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that," Mork said. "I never use my powers for violent purposes, and I won't allow them to be used that way by someone else."

Dr. Phillips smirked, looking at Mork, pinned to his hospital bed like a delicate butterfly secured to an album, and equally as fragile and helpless in his wounded state. "It's not as if you are in a position to bargain," he said.

"But you don't understand. I don't know if what you want from me is even possible. I'm not even sure how my powers work. They're inborn, like your grey eyes or brown hair. If you were to extract them from me…you'd probably kill me."

Dr. Phillips shrugged. "A worthy sacrifice," he said.

"No sir, it's not. If I die, you would lose my powers, too. Then all your efforts would have been in vain. It is worth really worth killing me over something you can't have, something you admit yourself you don't fully understand?"

"That's up to you."

"No, it's up to you. If you do this to me, I promise you the level of destruction possible would be beyond your ability to control. If you thought I was a threat to the general public before, well…I would hate to see the results of what would happen if you did somehow manage to use my powers as a weapon. I don't want to see it become a reality. I care too much about humanity to see them harmed, and as a member of their race, you should care, too."

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter," Dr. Phillips said, unmoved by his passionate pleas. "I will learn how your powers work. Once I have obtained the knowledge I need from you, I will have no more use for you."

Mork wanted to ask him how he could be so unfeeling, but he knew it wouldn't make a difference. He had encountered many beings like him across the universe and been subjected to torture on many unpleasant occasions. Always, his captors displayed the same callous disregard, deriving pleasure from of his suffering, immune to his pleas for compassion and mercy, which for them was nonexistent. There was little he could do, except endure it as best as his strength could bear it and bide his time until he found a way to escape, detected a flaw or weakness in their security. As he became a more seasoned traveler through space, he began to rely less on Orson's help, only contacting him in dire emergencies. Instead, he began to use his own resourcefulness and advanced intelligence, and eventually he always found a way out. He knew he would in this situation, too. He would just need to be patient. As formidable as Dr. Phillips was, he knew he could find a weakness in him and find a way home to Mindy. All he needed was time, something he knew was in short supply. He would have to act quickly, before Dr. Phillips succeeded not only in destroying him, but humanity as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Outsider

Part Four

Dr. Feldman parked the van in the middle of the empty desert. "We're here," he said to Mindy. "This is where you'll wait for me."

Mindy looked at their barren surroundings. "This is it?" She asked. "Couldn't you get any closer?"

"The base is just over that ridge. Trust me, this is the safest place for you."

"What are you going to do?"

Dr. Feldman looked at her. She thought she detected a slight nervous twitch to his thin, pale lips.

"Honestly?" He asked. "I don't really know."

"Are you saying that Mork's wellbeing is in the hands of someone who doesn't have a plan?"

"I have a plan—I just haven't quite figured it out yet."

"Oh, that's terrific."

"Listen Mindy, I know Dr. Phillips. I have worked with him for many years. He won't listen to reason. I'll need to find a different approach to handle him. I have some senior authority here, so I might have some influence over the outcome, and I might be able to have him overruled. I promise you though, whatever happens I will do everything in my power to return Mork to you."

Mindy looked at Dr. Feldman. He was an unlikely hero, small and meek, yet the sincerity and conviction in his eyes convinced her that she could believe him.

"I know you will," she said. "Be careful."

Mork's eyes followed Dr. Phillips as he moved around the room, checking the medical equipment monitoring his vital signs.

"I don't suppose I can appeal one last time to your humanity," he said, squirming beneath the restraints that held him. "What about my rights as a living, sentient being?"

Dr. Phillips scoffed. He looked at Mork with disgust. "You don't have any rights," he said. "You're not a citizen of this planet. You're not even _human_. What you are is the property of the United States government. You belong to me, and I will do with you as I wish, and what I wish is to learn how your powers function. I will learn how they do, too. I will find out, make no mistake. Either you will tell me, or I will force it out of you."

With that ominous threat, he left the room without explanation, the electronic lock to the door clicking shut behind him. Left alone, unsure when he would return, Mork knew it was the perfect opportunity to try to escape. He disabled the cameras that were watching him with his powers so that his efforts would be unseen. That part was easy. The metal bands securing him to the hospital bed would prove more of a challenge. He knew he could snap them mentally if he could determine their properties and composition, but it would strain his abilities to the limit. Still, he knew it was possible, despite Dr. Phillips's assertions otherwise. Orkans were capable of incredible feats of both physical and mental strength. Mork knew that, although difficult, if he applied himself, nothing could contain him. He had never had to work this hard to free himself, but he did know that Dr. Phillips would prove right about one thing. Perhaps he didn't realize what he was capable of until forced into a position to discover for himself.

Composing himself until he was in a relaxed state of deep concentration much as if he were about to contact Orson, he focused on the bands with an intense, unblinking stare. Although his body had ceased its struggles, his mental energies were being expended as he forced them onto the bands, willing them with all the strength and exertion he had available to him to break. At first, nothing happened. Then gradually, the metal became soft and malleable, almost melting. From that state, they shifted into becoming brittle, shattering like glass and falling to the floor in tiny, marble-like beads. Mork gasped and closed his eyes in relief once he learned he was freed from their grip, the effort it required thoroughly exhausting him, sweat beading on his forehead. Taking a moment to recover, his head aching and his body trembling, he sat up slowly, clutching the sides of the bed to steady himself.

The room looked different from the perspective of sitting up than it did lying down. He found himself confined to a secured, hospital-like room, windows revealing the military operations on the base below him. Removing the monitors from his body, he stood, wanting to see more of his surroundings. He winced and cried out in pain as he placed too much pressure on his wounded leg, forgetting about the gunshot. Looking down, he noticed it was bleeding heavily, his orange blood soaking through the bandages. His struggles and Dr. Phillips's pressure on the wound had caused it to reopen, and he knew it would soon become infected. If he had more time, he would have tended to it, but he knew that time was a scarce and precious resource for him, one that he had to take advantage of and use to its fullest before it was taken away from him. Limping, he approached the window, placing his hand against the glass and leaning on it to steady himself. Scanning the perimeter, he saw missile silos in the distance and barrels of gunpowder. Soldiers, heavily armed and in full battle gear, patrolled the grounds. Military aircraft mounted with missiles filled the hangar, prepared to launch and strike at any potential threat at a moment's notice. He realized that releasing himself from his bonds was only the first step toward his freedom. If he was going to get beyond the heavily secured grounds of the base, it was going to require something from him that was entirely different. Dr. Phillips was right—he could use his powers as a weapon, and if it was a weapon he was seeking, then Mork would deliver and make sure not to disappoint him. Only, he would employ a method the military liked to refer to as a surgical strike. Instead of hurting anyone with this weapon, Mork would create a diversion to confuse and scatter the enemy and make his exodus complete.

Mindy saw and felt the explosions erupting on the horizon, thick, fiery clouds of black smoke billowing in the air followed by concussive vibrations that caused the ground around her to shake violently. Worried that something terrible was happening to Mork and unable to stand by helplessly and watch any longer, she got out of the van and began running over the ridge toward the base. Unconcerned with her own safety, she approached, expecting a military guard to either shoot her or steer her away from the premises by force, but there was nothing like that to greet her. Instead, she met with chaos on the base, men in uniform running in all directions, conflagrations erupting from nearby weapons caches as if they were spontaneously combusting. The gates were unlocked, providing her with easy access. She entered carefully, dodging the explosions and men and infernos as best as she could, penetrating deeper into the base to see if she could find Mork. As she entered the hangar, she found the planes moving mysteriously under their own volition, their missiles aimed and prepared to fire, backing groups of men against the wall. Rifles, unaided by human hands, were suspended in the air, aimed at other groups of men. She watched the bizarre spectacle, completely stunned. She had heard rumors about unusual occurrences at Area 51. Until that day, she didn't believe it.

"Ms. McConnell, what are you doing here? I told you wait!" Dr. Feldman shouted, grabbing her arm and shaking her back into reality.

"I was tired of waiting," she said, noticing that they were the only people on the base not at the mercy of the rogue weapons. "Besides, I saw the explosions and I thought…what's happening, here?"

Dr. Feldman nodded to a point in the distance. Looking in the direction he indicated, Mindy saw a shadowy figure walking towards them. As the figure stepped into the light, she could see that it was Mork. He appeared to be injured, limping as he walked, his leg swathed in soaked, bloodied bandages. His clothing was in tatters and he was blackened with soot from the fires. He appeared to be in a daze, a lost, glazed look in his eyes as he commanded the aircraft and weapons to do his bidding with his mind, maneuvering them strategically like expensive Chess pieces, forcing the men holding him into corners and making them surrender peacefully without firing a single shot. Gradually both she and Dr. Feldman began to realize that he was the source of the unusual activity on the base, using his powers to the fullest not only to defend himself, but to earn his liberty. They watched in amazement, neither of them realizing how resourceful and ingenious he could be. It turned out he didn't need a rescuer, after all. He was his own one man army. He collapsed to the floor, unable to move any farther, his wounded leg preventing him.

"Mork!" Mindy shouted, running towards him, Dr. Feldman following her.

She cradled Mork's head in her hands, sobbing and stroking his hair. "Talk to me Mork, please," she said. "It's me, Mindy. I'm here."

Mork's eyes fluttered open, looking at her. They had lost the glazed, unfocused look he had earlier, recognition and awareness returning to them. Weakened not only by his mental exertions, but also by pain and blood loss, he panted, trying to speak but finding it difficult.

"Why doesn't anybody love me for me alone?" He asked weakly. His eyes rolled back and his body went limp in her arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Outsider

Part Five

Mindy looked down at Mork as he slept peacefully, never seeing him so calm and still. She knew he needed the stillness after his restless battle for his freedom, and she was careful not to wake him as she stroked his arm gently. He was in a more accommodating hospital room at the base, no longer secured to his bed but allowed the freedom to rest unhindered. His wounded leg was freshly bandaged, and since they knew more about his biology than they did the first time they captured him, he was given safe and therapeutic amounts of painkillers and administered IV fluids.

"His surgery went well," Dr. Feldman whispered. "His wound should heal just fine without any complications."

"Thank you," Mindy said. She looked at Mork. "What's going to happen to him? Will you release him when he's well?"

"Well…it's not going to be that simple, I'm afraid."

A sergeant poked his head into the room. "Doctor, they need you out here," he said.

"I'll be right back to explain," Dr. Feldman said to Mindy. "Please excuse me."

She watched him leave, wondering what he meant about it not being as simple as releasing Mork. She wondered how much more he had to suffer before he was allowed the right to live undisturbed by government agencies constantly harassing him and expressing their interest in him. He stirred and opened his eyes to tired slits, gazing up at Mindy and smiling. Even though his eyes weren't fully open, she could see the pain and fatigue in them. He squeezed her hand as much as his strength would allow, releasing a sigh.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, smiling.

"Better," he said, his voice faint and distant.

She didn't know how much he remembered about his rampage, but something about it had been plaguing her thoughts.

"Mork, before you passed out, you asked why people couldn't love you as you are," she said, frowning. "What did you mean by that?"

Mork's eyes wandered around the room, as if he were searching for the answer. "Oh Mind," he said. "If only you knew. If only you understood."

"Exactly, I don't know or understand. That's why I'm asking."

He looked at her. "You don't know what it means to be me, to be an alien on this planet," he said. "I've always been treated like an outsider everywhere I've traveled, and I expected some of that, but here…it's far worse than anywhere else I've been, and far more wonderful, too. It's strange."

"How so?"

"I'm either revered or reviled, or your government wants something from me, wants to use and exploit me for their own purposes. Nobody ever asks me what I want. To them, I am just an object to further their ambitions or expand their profits, not an intelligent being with feelings and desires. They project all their fear and hatred onto me, instead of using that misplaced curiosity to actually talk to me, get to know and understand me."

"What do you want, Mork?"

"I want to live a normal life, like you do. I want to be treated fairly, with respect and dignity." He squeezed her hand tighter, smiling. "But most of all, I want you."

"I want you, too," Mindy said. She leaned over and kissed him. "I didn't realize how much I've taken for granted. You're right, I do live a normal life. I can't imagine what it's like for you, to constantly be hounded and bothered, to be treated either with total veneration or total disrespect, but never seen for what you really are, which is pretty special in its own right. It's not because you're an alien that you're special, Mork. It's because you're a good guy. So you're wrong about one thing. There are some people who love you as you are, and you can count me as one of them. I don't want anything from you but the pleasure of your company."

Dr. Feldman reentered the room, noticing that Mork was now conscious.

"Well hello Mork, how are you feeling?" He asked.

Mork looked at the doctor, remembering his kindness when he released him from captivity that first time, saving his life. He smiled at him, hoping he was there to once again deliver good news.

"Much better, thank you," he said groggily.

"That's great, because I have negotiated a deal for your freedom."

"What did you do?" Mindy asked.

Dr. Feldman grinned, barely containing his excitement. "You're going to love this," he said. "Mork, I have a job opportunity for you."

"A job?"

Dr. Feldman nodded. "How would you like to work for the United States government?" He asked.

"We were just talking about that," Mindy said. "If you think you can exploit him for your own agenda, you've got another thing coming."

"Just hear me out. It isn't anything like that, I promise. Mork would be paid a salary, and quite a healthy one, too."

"What would I be doing?" Mork asked.

"Anything you want. You'd be part of our research and development team. You could help us by showing us any advanced technology that you think would be useful and benefit us here on Earth, and in return we would pay you for that knowledge."

"Do I get to live with Mindy?"

"Of course. You two can even stay in Boulder if you want. We can provide you with the proper cover—give you a fake job, manufacture credentials like a birth certificate, social security card, and identification. This would give you the autonomy you want. It would almost make you feel like a regular human."

"And you would leave me alone? You wouldn't try to capture me again?"

"That's correct."

Mork looked down. He thought about the stranded Native American man he met and helped. It gave him satisfaction to help that man, and the story he told about how Orkans used to come to Earth and help humans develop—something about the idea was very appealing to him, and he wouldn't be doing it out of pure altruism, either. It would also make him feel like he had a purpose. If only Orson could see him now. He knew he would be proud. After being adrift for so long, being treated as a criminal and a delinquent—he would finally find his place among the humans and start the life with Mindy that he had been trying to form for some time now. It would provide him with stability and security, things that even someone as rebellious as he was still needed to thrive. The idea that he had free reign over his projects, too, that no one would try to direct him or tell him what to do—that also had its appeal to him. He could finally feel accepted and needed, using his advanced abilities to challenge and stimulate himself. As much as he loved living on Earth, he had to admit that at times he found it boring without something to keep his mind active. This job that Dr. Feldman was offering to him would provide him with the perfect opportunity to do just that.

"Well, I do have some ideas that would help the human race," he said, smiling. "There are some things we have on Ork that you don't have here, things that I miss. It's valuable knowledge, too, and I could share it with you."

"You're not actually considering this, are you?" Mindy asked. She looked at Dr. Feldman. "No offense, but this sounds too good to be true. How do we know we can trust you after everything he's been through?"

"This is the deal I have struck with other members of the organization," Dr. Feldman said. "They agreed to discipline Dr. Phillips for his actions, and in return for that agreement, they want Mork to work for us, but strictly as a paid consultant on projects that interest him. He won't assist us in the manufacturing of any weapons; just technology that can improve our lives."

"And if he refuses?"

Dr. Feldman shrugged. "He has to pay for the millions of dollars of damage he caused to the base somehow," he said, grinning.

"Oh, you're clever," Mindy said. She looked at Mork. "Mork, don't listen to him. You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"But I _do_ want to, Mindy," he said. "Not only do I want to help other humans- I want to help you, too. I want us to have a good life together. I can help make that happen for us. I'm doing it because I love you."

She didn't know what to say. No man had ever said anything like that to her before, perhaps because no other man had ever cared for her as much as Mork did. She found herself genuinely touched by his response. She knew there was a reason she loved him.

"Mork," she said, overcome. She kissed him.

"So, what is your decision?" Dr. Feldman asked.

"He'll do it," Mindy said, releasing him.

"Mork? How about you?"

"Yes," he said. "When can I start?"

"Immediately."

It wasn't easy keeping what Mork actually did for a living secret, but both he and Mindy figured that if they had managed to keep the fact that he was an alien a secret for as long as they had, they could also maintain their silence on that subject as well. The government handled his money for him, keeping it safe in a secure location and helping him invest it in companies they felt were worthwhile and on the cutting edge of research and technology. In time, Mork was a multimillionaire, but nobody in the outside world would know it. He and Mindy kept their apartment and lived as they usually did, preferring their cozy and humble surroundings to a palatial mansion any day. Besides, it would be too difficult to explain how they managed to acquire the money necessary to maintain such a high standard of living. Most evenings after dinner and before going to bed to either make love or go straight to sleep, they snuggled together on Mindy's couch, watching the silly alien and monster flicks that Mork had been exposed to while on Ork.

"Are you sure you want to watch this?" Mindy asked, turning on the TV. "What if you get scared?"

Mork grinned slyly. "I won't get scared," he said. "I told you—I laugh at these."

"Okay, if you insist."

They watched as the black and white aliens—actors dressed in cheesy costumes from the 1950s—moved robotically across the screen, emerging from glowing flying saucers. Mork did laugh at the absurdity of it all while munching on popcorn, but there were parts of the movie when Mindy noticed he wasn't laughing, where he was completely absorbed instead. It was the parts she knew he could relate to, the parts where soldiers shot at the aliens or captured them, holding them prisoner inside a laboratory for study. While most of it was fiction, those parts were simply too close to reality for Mork. Mindy turned off the TV when she noticed that he seemed particularly disturbed and uncomfortable about one of the scenes.

"What did you do that for?" He asked. "It was just about to get to the good part."

"You looked upset," she said.

"I wasn't upset."

She sat beside him, tracing his tense, muscular shoulder with her finger. "You can't hide from me," she said. "I know how those scenes made you feel. They reminded you of what you've been through, didn't they?"

Mork looked down at the floor. "You're right," he said quietly. "I guess I do have a new perspective on these movies now. In the earthling's defense, though, they are just scared, facing the unknown. Perhaps I would act the same way if I were in their gloves."

"The expression is in their _shoes_ , Mork," Mindy said, giving him a teasing, playful grin.

Mork shrugged and smiled, looking slightly embarrassed. "Well, whatever," he said, blushing. "I guess I'm just lucky that finally at least some earthlings besides you are starting to become more accepting of people like me from other planets. It's a big world, though, and I know it's going to take some time." He looked out the window. "If only everybody out there knew the truth," he said. "If only they knew what was really out there. They would be amazed."

Mindy kissed him, considering herself very fortunate to be with him, to know the truth wasn't as dangerous or threatening as the science fiction movies made it out to be. "Yes," she said. "If only they knew."

The End


End file.
